


Spark

by glossmyeyes



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Next Life fic, Romance, Slightly Smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glossmyeyes/pseuds/glossmyeyes
Summary: "Let's meet again, in the next life."





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Typical "next life" fic.  
> Sorry not sorry.

They meet by chance, as these things go.

One is rushing out the door of a coffee shop, scowl on his face because this means he must face the rain. The other is entering, lazy, ever present smirk suddenly dropping into a gaping frown as hot caffeinated beverage is spilt down the front of his shirt when they collide.

Apologies follow, along with smiles, easy conversation.

They live near each other, work for the same company. Roxas stalls, fidgets; he tries to convince himself it's to avoid the rain, but the sharp angles of this man's jaw are making him weak at the knees. He invites him over for a nightcap in one last apology for the ruined clothes, beams when Axel accepts.

It's a whirlwind of things, after that: nights of stolen glances, fleeting touches, a whisper of laughter against his ear; dancing together in the worn kitchen of his apartment, drunk off of cheap beer and each other.

Their first kiss happens two weeks later, quietly, meekly; a tentative touch of lips to the corner of Axel's mouth, nose scrunching at the scent of smoke that always lingers on him whether he has a cigarette in his hand or not. Roxas isn't drunk anymore, but heat pools in his cheeks regardless, panting, pupils blown wide and Axel stares - just stares and stares until Roxas fumbles through an apology, jerks to turn away.

And it seems like the worst is going to happen; the world is spinning, crumbling, crushing in on itself when a pale fist catches the edge of his rumpled tee shirt and pulls him in, drawing the breath from his lungs in heated gasps with a hot tongue licking its way into his mouth. They kiss, long and hard and heavy, right there against his kitchen table.

From there, it's simple math - subtraction of clothes, division of who goes where and at what angle, addition of spit-slicked fingers up inside him, multiplied by the amount of moans that slip through his clenched teeth.

It's four that does him in: Roxas cries out in both pleasure and pain, begging for more with little ruts of his hips that jostle the table that he's precariously perched upon.

And then Axel is sliding in, slowly, gently, kissing at his shoulders, neck, lips - and a memory floats to the edge of his mind, hazy, wistful: a long coat of shadows slipping off sharp, angled shoulders, pooling like a puddle of darkness upon a stark white floor - before all coherent thought is washed away in a rush of  _pleasurepain_  that seems to split him clean down the middle as Axel begins to thrust deep inside.

Later, in the aftermath, curled tightly against each other on the tattered living room couch - later, on the post-coital edge between consciousness and sleep, Roxas remembers. A promise between two wounded souls, a silhouette of a supposedly heartless man dressed in black against a flurry of dancing flames:

_"Let's meet again, in the next life."_

_"Yeah, I'll be waiting."_

Roxas smiles, presses a kiss to the spot where Axel's heart beats strong, and settles in to sleep.

There's no telling whether it will work this time around, but he knows one thing for certain: Axel has always been fire, and Roxas is the spark that ignites him.


End file.
